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“On your stomach,” Dale ordered. “Hands behind your head.”
Giving in, Sneer complied.
With a complete lack of finesse, Heather wrenched the intruder’s hands behind his back.
“Impressive,” Dale said, watching her loop the cuffs through Sneer’s belt.
“Something I picked up along the way.” She got to her feet, leaving Sneer face down on the floor. “What now?”
“Go ahead and pack. We’re leaving town just as soon as possible. This afternoon, in fact.”
That did surprise her. Almost as much as the proposal. “Are you sure, I mean it’s a crime scene now. We can celebrate another weekend.”
“Pack,” he urged, frowning at her.
She crossed the room to the overnight bag Dale had provided, wondering what the frown was about. She’d been playing the role of supportive fiancée correctly and he could hardly blame her for helping out when it had worked so well. Those concerns evaporated as she realized her bag had been rifled, but nothing was missing. She zipped it shut and set it on the edge of the bed.
“Sweetheart,” she stepped closer to his side and watched Sneer with him. “Postponing really is okay. I know your career comes first.”
He snorted. “Hard to avoid the career when it comes right into our home.”
Our home? Her mouth went dry at the very idea of making a home with this man. It was outrageous. Impossible. It had the potential to be a dream come true.
Some part of her sighed quietly. Loving someone and creating a home was exactly what she wanted. Someday. But not today. As much as she liked him, she wasn’t sure Dale was the man who could give it to her. He couldn’t wrap his head around Happy Thought theory and that was a deal-breaker.
Not that they were at the point of making any real deals here.
She was saved from having to come up with a reply when sirens sounded in the street and loud voices announced their presence as FBI agents at the front door.
“Back here,” Dale called out, keeping his weapon trained on Sneer. “Intruder is down.”
Heather wondered if everyone from the local office had shown up as three men and two women, all in subdued business suits, filed into the bedroom. Somehow this was far more intimidating than Sneer wielding a crowbar.
“Does anyone need medical attention?” The woman who’d voiced the question had a phone at her ear and looked from Sneer to Heather and Dale in turn.
“Only him,” Dale said.
A man with thick salt and pepper hair and sharp blue eyes snapped orders to the others and waited while Sneer was hauled away before turning to Dale. “What happened?”
Dale lowered his gun only after Sneer was out of sight. “Heather Morris, my boss, Special Agent in Charge Bingham,” Dale said. “Sir, this is my fiancée.”
She smiled, imagining a heart full of happiness would trump a home invasion as Agent Bingham did a double take. He recovered quickly, reaching to shake Heather’s hand. “A pleasure. Although I wish it could be under better circumstances.”
“Likewise,” Heather replied.
“I thought you were out of town this weekend, Nichols.”
“That was the plan, sir.”
“To expedite matters, Miss Morris, you can give your statement to—”
“I’d rather she stay with me, sir.”
Bingham arched an eyebrow. “You know that’s not how it’s done. If you give individual statements we’ll get you out of here faster. I don’t want to delay your plans.”
“Call me clingy,” Dale said, pulling Heather close to his side. “My fiancée was attacked and I’m not ready to let her out of my sight.”
Bingham took a deep breath and approved with a single dip of his chin. “Fine. Take me through it. You first, Miss Morris.”
